


On the Clock Woes

by GettheSalt



Series: Take Your Fandom to Work [2]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Retail, Gen, Take Your Fandom to Work Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-08
Updated: 2016-05-08
Packaged: 2018-06-07 01:09:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6778879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GettheSalt/pseuds/GettheSalt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pompous managers? Coworkers who don't see eye to eye when it comes to the definition of good business? Rival stores? Uniform troubles? Angry customers who are sure they're right? Doesn't exactly sound like a good day, but when you work for the #1 national electronics retailer, it's all par for the course.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On the Clock Woes

“I hate his face.”

Raina snorted, looking over the cash terminal's monitor at Kara. The mobile lead was standing between the checkout area and the dark wood mobile department floor, her arms crossed over her deep blue Best Buy Mobile shirt. Her eyes were trained on the back of their retreating sales manager, Phil, with a look somewhere between annoyance and disbelief.

“That's what you're going with?” Raina asked, waiting for Kara to look her way. Kara was the perfect choice to be Grant's second-in-command. She was level-headed, most of the time, but she was just as passionate as him. Between the two of them, the rest of the mobile team had definite role models to live up to. And Kara kept Grant from getting _too_ worked up when things didn't necessarily go his way. “You hate his face?”

Kara rolled her eyes, glancing Phil's way again before moving forward a bit more, uncrossing her arms. “I know it isn't how _you_ would put it. You would probably say something much more flowery and biting.”

Raina raised an eyebrow.

“Okay, for maybe the 'flowery' thing was a little cheesy.”

“No, no.” Raina waved a hand, before turning to watch a customer come into the store. It had been a slow day – unsurprising, with how nice it was outside – and they had seen few in the opening hours. “You're right. I probably would have. I do enjoy 'I hate this face', however.” She looked back at Kara with a smile. “Definitely an appropriate response to him nagging you to find someone to activate a phone for.”

It was Kara's turn to raise an eyebrow. “Well, I could have said that he could shove his little speech he made up his ass, but that would mean he'd have to shove it past everything Grant's said he should shove up his ass.”

Raina made a face. “That's not a... very nice image.”

“Wasn't meant to be.” Kara shot back, then retreated as a customer approached the checkout. They had worked out a very good system. Raina stayed at checkout, easily, while Kara was able to float between mobile, the checkout, and the entrance of the store, She could see her department, run a code one – checkout assistance if it got busy – and greet customers, all with excellent efficiency. It both increased customer engagement _and_ ensured that she would be first contact for anyone who might need to upgrade their cell phone.

“He has a point, though.” Raina said, when she'd finished with her customer. Kara's face immediately darkened, and Raina held up her hands to ward her off. “I'm just saying, you know that if Grant comes in to close, and we don't have a single act on the board...”

Kara went still for a second, and then sighed. “You're right. I know you're right. But that means admitting _Phil_ is right, and that just...”

Raina shook her head. “You mobile associates can be so egotistical.”

“We get it from Grant.” Kara said, smiling now. “So, you could say that we come by it honestly.”

“The ego, the stubbornness, and the unflappable drive?” Raina filled in, pulling out a few shopping bags, and folding them over carefully before loading them into the dispenser areas. “How about the, uh, _tension_ with certain Geek--”

Kara held up a finger there, but her smirk betrayed that she was thinking the same thing. “We shouldn't talk about that. He'll show up and start getting worked up about how he can't _stand_ our esteemed precinct chief.”

Raina nodded, making a noise of agreement. “Very true. Is the betting pool still open on that?”

“Yeah,” Kara said, pulling out her phone. Her tone was a little distracted as she checked the screen. “Speak of the devil, there he is...” She pressed her thumb to the home button, and then started typing away in reply to Grant. “That being said, the one over Joey and Mack is the better one to put new money into, if that's what you're considering.”

“Hmm.” Raina drummed her fingers on the till. “Maybe I will. I was right about Jemma and Bobbi. Joey and Mack are much more mature than Grant, if they're going to act, it will happen sooner than the other two.”

“Yup.” Kara said, closing her phone and sliding it back into her pocket. “Not that we're betting on associates' love lives.”

“No.” Raina agreed with a smirk. “Never.”

The doors opened again and Kara smiled at the middle-aged man walking in. “Welcome to Best Buy. Anything I can help you with?”

“Yeah,” the man answered, before pulling out an old, beat up looking Sony phone. “I think it's about time I upgraded this thing.”

“Then I'm definitely the one you need.” Kara said, and waved at the mobile desk, leading the customer over. Looked like she would have an act on the board by the time Grant came in to close after all.

 

~*~

 

Phil Coulson understood a lot of things about his role as Sales Manager at this Best Buy. He was, primarily, there to help drive sales. He was the sales team's go-to guy when it came to needing help with their sales, their pricing, their demos, their pitches. Between himself and Melinda, he nurtured the sales team into becoming something great, something where every person played a vital part. And it had been a success. They were consistently ranked one of the top sales teams in their district, and they had more than a few “best in district” banners hung across the front of the store to boast that.

He was proud of the work that he did, because he did damn good work.

Which was why conversations like this always tended to get on his nerves.

“Do you ever relax?” Phil asked with a quiet laugh, looking across the SDR at their assistant manager, Victoria Hand.

“Phil. That isn't the reaction I was hoping to hear.” Victoria answered, pursing her lips while she looked at him over the rims of her glasses. “You know that part of making sales is making _smart_ sales. And I know that you're capable of doing that, but I also know that in the last week, you have made some decidedly _not_ smart deals.”

Phil turned in the desk chair he was seated in, spreading his arms wide. “It was all old stock!!”

“Yes. I know that.”

“So then, what's the big deal?” Phil asked, crossing his arms. “The guys are making sales – _good_ sales – and we're getting rid of old product to make room for new stuff. The customers are getting what they want and need. It's a win-win, everybody is happy!”

Victoria sighed, rubbing her temple. “You and I have very different ideas of 'smart deals', Phil.”

“Not necessarily a bad thing.”

The fact of the matter was that this dynamic was present in every Best Buy that Phil had ever been in. The operations side of leadership would argue about the importance of making sure that, while customers were taken care of, they still followed 'The Rules', as they were laid out in the standard operating procedures and leadership training. The sales side of leadership, on the other hand? They would argue until the cows came home that the smart deals, sometimes, had to be smart by only the barest of margins.

It was an argument that would go on forever, until the end. Phil knew that. Victoria knew that, too. And each of them knew that the other knew it, which made this whole conversation moot.

It didn't mean that they weren't going to do this song and dance at least once a month.

“Can you at least _try_ and let Jemma's advice, and Izzy's advice, and _my_ advice penetrate that stubborn brain of yours, now and again?”

Phil gave her a smile. “Same old, same old?”

Victoria sighed, just as Tomas, from Home Solutions, walked into the SDR. “Interrupting?”

Phil looked at Victoria.

Victoria waved her hand. “No. We're done.”

Tomas nodded, and looked at Phil. “I've got a customer who wants to buy the premium 4K, and he wants a lot of extras... And a discount.”

Phil caught the assistant manager's eye, trying not to smirk as he got to his feet.

“Well, we better see if we can make him a smart deal.”

 

~*~

 

Best Buy Mobile was a very specialized department. In the world that they all lived in, now, it was more and more important that people have a cell phone, and that they have a data plan, and that they have access, via a tiny handheld computer, to an array of different things that connected them not just to their loved ones, but to the rest of the world. It had become the North American standard that people just _had_ a cell phone. Ten years before, it wouldn't have been surprising to run into someone who didn't have one. Now, it was almost jaw-dropping to encounter an individual who didn't have some form of cellular device.

That, of course, was the reason for places like Best Buy Mobile. To make the accessibility to those devices all that much more convenient, especially when you could peruse your choice of providers all in one place.

In fact, it was such a dire part of the business, that the company had gone ahead, a few years before, and not only incorporated mobile sales into their full size stores, but had added a number of stand alone Best Buy Mobile stores in malls. Generally, the stores didn't have to intermingle. It was rare, and, really, the fact was that rivalries between stores – especially mobile stores and mobile departments that were sometimes only separated by a road – had a tendency to flare. Flare, and make them fake nice, fake friendly, and, overall, extremely passive aggressive.

It was just best that they all stuck to their own buildings, and pretend the other didn't exist.

It was the way Grant Ward liked it. He was happy to run his consistently top-of-company department, and forget that there was any competition any nearer than the store the next city over.

Of course, sometimes it was harder to ignore.

For instance, like when he walked into the store in the morning, and it felt like one of his worst nightmares had come true.

The first thing he saw when he got there, just before noon, was a trio of mobile associates in his department that he knew weren't _his_ associates, but belonged to the tiny box across the street, in the mall. The mall that had, curiously, had an array of emergency vehicles crowded around it's northwest corner when he'd driven by.

Off to one side, Kara and Sunil were standing, watching the front door, and the other associates. The invaders, as Grant was thinking of them. Good. At least they were keeping an eye on these three, but it didn't make Grant feel any less of a rage response.

“You look like you're about to give yourself an aneurysm.”

Grant turned towards the voice, seeing Jemma Simmons, the Operations supervisor, making her way towards him. She was smiling in a gentle way, the gentle way that made it blatantly obvious that Maria and Victoria had asked her to handle him when he came in. They had to know that he was _not_ going to be thrilled about this turn of events, and, in reaction to that, they sent the most gentle soul they had, aside from Hannah Hutchins, to soothe him.

“Because I am.” He said, bluntly, letting Jemma take him by the arm and walk him away from the front of the store. “ _Why_ are _they_ in my department? What the hell is going on?”

Jemma sighed, glancing over towards mobile, before looking up at Grant. “They have no power today.”

Grant frowned. “Excuse me?”

“Well, I'm sure you saw the emergency vehicles when you drove in.”

“Yeah...”

“This morning, someone drove their extremely garish pick-up truck into the generator bay at the mall, which, unfortunately, cut all the power.”

Grant nodded. “Cool. So, that sounds like a _them_ problem. Why is it looking like a _me_ problem?”

“Because,” Jemma cut in, before he'd even finished speaking. “The district team thought it would be best that they not miss out on a day's worth of wages through no fault of their own. They could have sent them home, but, instead, they thought we could use the extra bodies.”

“We have three tills. What the hell do they think is going to happen, here? That my guys are just going to stand back so that they can take all the activations, and get themselves ranked higher in the national rankings? Because that's not happening. Not on my watch. My department doesn't exist for them to--”

“--Grant, you're ranting.”

Grant stopped talking, shutting his mouth and glowering at the floor while Jemma led him around. She wasn't touching him anymore, but her guidance kept him moving around the main aisle that made a ring around the store. They called it the racetrack, which he thought was apt.

“They won't be selling, today, unless both Sunil and Kara are busy.” Jemma continued, once she was assured that he was calmed down. “So, you don't have to worry about them stepping on your associates' toes today while they're working their shifts in our building.”

There was a hint of something left unsaid, there, and while they turned the corner near the Geek Squad precinct, Grant waited for her to continue, and come clean. When she didn't, he prompted, “And?”

“And...” Jemma echoed, glancing over at the Geek Squad desk. Leo Fitz, their Precinct Chief, was at the desk, leaning against it with his arms crossed, chatting with their installer, Alphonso Mackenzie – more fondly known as Mack. As though prompted by a secret connection – which would surprise no one who knew both Leo and Jemma – the chief looked up and over, a wide smile growing on his face almost immediately.

“Grant's here!” He said, cheerfully. “Give me a minute, will you, Mack?”

“Yeah, man.” Mack said, straightening up. “How's it going, Grant? Excited to see the mall guys in your department?”

Grant gave him a tight smile. “Like Christmas.”

“Aww. Someone's grumpy.” Leo teased as he joined them. “I'm guessing you needed me for moral support?” He continued, addressing Jemma.

That wasn't good. Grant could swear he felt his blood pressure rising. It wasn't fair that Maria and Victoria had made Jemma deliver this news, especially if it was news that Leo knew she was going to need moral support to give him. “What?”

“Well.” Jemma said, stopping and moving to stand in front of Grant, her smile firmly in place. Leo was at her side in a second, mimicking it. “They aren't here to sell, really, but you know how the departments are scheduled to be, well--”

“--Setup on new planograms.” Leo picked up. “All the layouts changed, moved around to make more sense?”

Grant was _positive_ he felt his blood pressure rising, now. “Yes.”

“Well, district figured, since it would be unfair to your team to have another team come in and steal their sales--”

“--That it would be best if they came in and helped with the planogram reset--”

“--So that's what they're doing. Rearranging your department.”

Grant was sure that he was about to see red.

A mall team was rearranging the product in _his_ department? Without _his_ input? Without _him_ being given a heads up by his general manager _before_ he got there and felt the annoyance that came from not being told, and seeing them there.

“Now, don't go getting all--”

“--Dramatic.” Leo cut across Jemma. “It's only for today.”

“Exactly!” Jemma chimed in. “Nothing to--”

“--Where's Maria.” Grant said, through gritted teeth.

Jemma's smile faded into a mildly concerned look. “In the SDR, but—”

“--I'll see you guys later. I have to go remind our GM whose department that is.” Grant said, turning around and stalking off towards the employee only area of the store. He didn't miss Jemma's sigh as he did, nor did he miss Leo's quip.

“I don't think _anyone_ forgets whose department it is. We just like to see him riled up.”

 

~*~

 

“Lance, what the hell!” Bobbi Morse hissed, tugging her full-timer into the back of the television department the second she laid eyes on him. Laid eyes on him and wished she hadn't, or, at least, wished that when she had, she'd seen something better. “What... what is this?”

“What is what?” Lance Hunter asked her, actually, genuinely, perplexed.

That shouldn't have surprised her, but, after all this time, she kept hoping that Lance would actually go one week without disappointing her in one way or another, when it came to the minor infractions one could make, working at Best Buy.

Their uniform wasn't that difficult to pull together. Black polishable shoes. Black socks. Black dress pants. An optional white undershirt. Blue polo. All they asked was that it be clean and nicely put together, and, if the shirt looked too baggy, it be tucked in. Nametag went on the right side of the shirt, across from the company logo, that was on the left side. Black jackets were optional, and could be purchased at an employee's discretion, to help on those colder days.

It wasn't a hard uniform to keep together. It wasn't even a hard uniform to keep looking nice.

Which was why, when Lance was standing in front of her with wrinkled pants and a rumpled shirt, Bobbi couldn't help but feel exasperated.

“This!” Bobbi said, gesturing to the whole of Lance. “Your uniform!”

“Oh.” Lance glanced down at himself. “Ah, yeah, about that, Bob. Y'see--”

“--Did you _sleep in it_?”

Bobbi had hoped that Lance would shut her down immediately. She'd hoped that his original reaction would be a loud and indignant 'no!' before he pulled out another excuse. One that wouldn't start with a bar and end at some random's house. When that didn't happen, she groaned and rolled her eyes.

“Lance, not again!”

“No! No, it isn't- It didn't-” He paused, smoothing his hands down the front of his shirt. “You're probably thinking it's a whole lot worse than it is.”

Bobbi shook her head. “Really? How could is possibly be any different than what I'd thinking, when what I'm thinking has happened at least six times already?” She put her hands on her hips, facing him across the aisle of TVs. Behind her, she knew that the demo reel was going through scenes from the latest Disney film, which might lower the impact of her annoyance, if Lance hadn't been well acquainted with it already. You learned to tune those things out, after you saw them sixty times a day. “You leave here and head to the bar to watch the game and have a few drinks – without getting out of your uniform because, oh, why would you bother? - and then, after you've had too many, you end up going home with whatever new friend you made that night, forgetting that you open the next morning, and when your alarm goes off, you stroll in like _this_.” Once again, she gestured to all of him, and then shook her head. “You're lucky Melinda hasn't seen you yet.”

Lance waited a beat, and then, holding a hand out, he asked, “Are you finished?”

“Not doing yourself any favours, Hunter.”

“Right, right, got it, love.”

Bobbi raised an eyebrow.

Lance winced. “I take it you're, ah, waiting for my explanation?”

“You might as well go ahead.” Bobbi sighed, waving her hand. “Try and make it sound better.”

“If you _must_ know,” Lance started. “I went over to Idaho's last night, because he and Alisha broke up.”

It was Bobbi's turn to be stunned into silence, before asking, quietly, “Again?”

Lance nodded. “He didn't really give me the specifics, but he was kind of a mess. So, I went over to his place, had a few, and decided to stay the night. Wasn't really thinking, and I didn't really look at my uniform before I came in this morning. Mack was there last night, you can confirm I was on heartbreak duty!”

Bobbi sighed. Lance did, actually, had a somewhat viable excuse for why his uniform looked like he'd been turned upside down and spun before someone dropped him into the store. Still...

“Come on.” She muttered, beckoning him back towards the staff room – or, as they called it, The Hub – keeping a careful eye out for any of the supervisors or managers. “I think Linc has a spare shirt in his locker. It's not going to help your pants, but hopefully no one will notice.”

Lance jogged to catch up with her, grinning broadly. “Thanks Bob. You're a lifesaver.”

“I know,” Bobbi said, keying in the code on the Hub door, before striding through. “And don't you forget it.”

 

~*~

 

Anyone who has ever worked in customer service knows that there are a few truths about the field. One of them is that the customer might not always be right, but you have to at least try to pretend like there's a small iota of 'right' in their arguments. Another is that a good customer can make your whole day, and cancel out any bad that came before.

And yet another is that, sometimes, there's just no reasoning with people.

“No, this is... This is definitely physically damaged.” Leo said, firmly, looking up from the laptop on the desk in front of him. Jemma stood at his side, and, across from them, a solid man with a thick mustache attempted to stare both of them down. “There's.... Well, sir, Jemma's correct. There's absolutely the indentation of a fist, here.”

“Well, if this piece of shit had worked when you idiots sold it to me--”

“--Sir, I'm sorry, but we can't serve you if you're going to talk like that” Jemma cut in, her voice just as firm as Leo's had been.

The customer's face reddened, and when he spoke next, it was through his teeth. “It didn't work when you sold it to me.”

Leo consulted the receipt that had been laid on the desk next to the laptop. “When we sold it to you... seventeen months ago?”

“Yeah!”

“Sir... You'll forgive me for asking, but, if it didn't work right out of the box, seventeen months ago, why didn't you return it then?” Leo asked, speaking slowly. “I mean, instead of punching the screen, over a year later?”

Jemma let out a sigh next to him.

That was probably the wrong thing to say, and he knew it. He knew it, and he knew that _she_ was thinking it.

And he knew that the customer was thinking the exact same thing.

“You can't talk to me like that, I'm the customer.”

“Sir, you've punched your laptop's screen.”

“I have the warranty.”

Leo couldn't help but feel his annoyance level jump upwards a little. Why did people think, even if they _destroyed_ their products, that the warranty would apply? No one, unless explicitly stated, covered physical damage or water damage to a product. And yet, every now and then, someone showed up who thought he could take a sledgehammer to his 65-inch TV, and the store, or manufacturer, would just smile and hand over a brand new product, no questions asked.

“Sir, if you look at the contract, it very clearly says that something like this is not covered.” Jemma explained, her customer service voice in full effect.

It didn't seem to do her any good, though. The customer slammed the laptop shut, and when he did, it made a sick crunching sound that assured Leo that the damage had only gotten worse.

“This is bullshit! I'm going to call your head office!”

“All right.”

Leo and Jemma looked over at the sound of Grant's voice. The mobile manager was walking over, his jaw set. Leo couldn't guess how long he'd been watching, and letting them handle it – because he knew they could – but he was thankful that he was stepping in, now. Grant cut an imposing figure. Aside from Mack, he was the biggest guy in the store, and the best option they had for a manager to get involved, especially when this customer didn't seem to have any qualms about punching things that annoyed him.

“Time to go, sir. You've disrespected my staff enough.”

The customer backed down, and stormed off towards the front of the store, Grant walking a few feet behind him, making sure he left. “This won't be the last you hear from me! This is bullshit, you hear?”

“Have a nice day!” Jemma called in response, and Leo smothered a laugh, shaking his head.

“Does no one read the contracts anymore?”

His best friend shook her head, and squeezed his shoulder, before moving out from around the desk to head back to customer service.

“You know they don't. And thanks for your help, Leo.”

Leo sent her a small salute, and opened the door to go back into the precinct. “Anytime.”

 


End file.
